


The Corvids - 2020

by MintakaIgnatius



Category: The Birds (1963), The Crow (1994), The Crow (Comics), The Crow (Movies), The Crow - All Media Types, The Raven - Edgar Allan Poe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23792785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintakaIgnatius/pseuds/MintakaIgnatius
Summary: Documentation of a street prophet's warning and probable supernatural activity.
Kudos: 6





	The Corvids - 2020

The Corvids – 2020

Evidence item #1: Isolated comprehensive transcript of subject’s utterances from i-Phone video recording at W Fayette and S Greene, 19:40-19:47. This transcript attempts to isolate subject’s utterances from background noise and birdsong with the aid of audio enhancing software; inquire for all-inclusive phonetic transcript.

Video Summary up to Event: Bystander begins recording focusing on charcoal drawings of human silhouettes on cemetery’s western brick wall. Each figure with its own silhouette of a bird hovering above, wings outstretched, human heads touched by birds’ tail feathers. Subject can be heard while bystander slowly directs camera left ward along wall before focusing view on the subject herself, revealing hundreds of like drawings in the process, all seemingly varying in size and placement. These were presumably created by the subject’s own efforts whose fingers appear blackened as though subject was finger drawing with soot. Bystander’s stationary view settles from average head-level height and in close proximity to and outside the cemetery’s western wall and approximately six meters away from subject who paces, turns, and pauses along the curb’s corner for the duration of the recording. Subject appears to be a destitute woman of Caucasian descent in her mid to late forties, although age is difficult to discern given subject’s disheveled state. Subject is wearing dark heavy clothing despite warm weather. From the start of the recording the subject is highly animated, emotional, and loudly delivering a monologue to passersby whom all avoid contact. At any given point subject is accompanied by one to five corvus brachyrhynchos and/or corvus corax on her person, with an unknown greater amount present in the immediate area’s trees, along manmade structures, as well as moving in and out of the camera’s view. (Note: These species were identified by their calls and occasionally differentiated by their physical features; these two species typically display hostility toward one another.) Subject monologue continues without pause to be audible until the event occurs at which point witnessing bystander #1 presumably abandons recovered recording device.

Begin transcript: 19:40:13

-story! It was their stories that became my story that I shared with you and you made it all into shit! Over and over, worse and worse with each retelling until none of it is the same anymore and none of you will believe me now when you most! *deep breath* must! You killed me in your second for you think all others think in the same ways as copyrights and money, but you’re so, so wrong. What, with your failing concepts of isolated sequels and prequels. Eric was not the first nor the last, neither was Ashe, nor Alexander, nor James for that matter! A man’s soul’s torment for what?! My friends! My friends’ souls’ torment for what?! I come to warn you all in the name of real love! Eric became an angel of vengeance by an angel’s grace, yes, but even he couldn’t draw the morphine from my mother’s veins with a touch! For his powers granted were in violence against the violent, don’t you dare be fooled that this is a murder of healers about you now! And what if he didn’t follow his guide from beyond, taking their souls and marking each occasion with oh guiding angel’s vain likeness? Poe knew this story well before I knew mine. Oh, Poe knew well what happened to the scholar who lamented Lenore in his study as Eric lamented Shelly in their loft, except that he exacted no justice and thusly offered no sacrifice. The scholar scorned his guide’s gift of undeath to show mercy as Jesus might and was cursed by the herald from Plutonian shores into eternal madness and to see his beloved Lenore nevermore. These are angels you see and ignore about you! But they know no mercy as Jesus might, but they do know wrath as that of a flooding god might. The horsemen know no horse! No matter how much vain men want them to, but they do know wings as angels do. You unknowingly call Plague the bird flu!! You! I see you hiding, so smart with your phone and your satchel! You call Famine an alien species with no predators amongst the corn! You picture War by the machines, inspired by these very angels of death, that drop napalm and worse on your brothers’ heads! Death! the ushers that would deliver your souls on wings under the unobstructed view of heaven as in Tibet, you call them buzzards, vultures, carrion crows, pests.. You mock these angels with your offerings to worms and I am bid now as the scholar was bid. Hitchcock tried to warn you all, but I can see it for you and I see it as clearly as all the flooding god’s countless watchers. It is known that the angels can enact their own deeds as when the crow drew eyes from the vain witch’s head who had before drawn eyes from that of the sleeping babe. As when they rent Judah outside of his tower, but even then, they needed their chosen to cast the first stone against their brothers. These names of men made angels that I cast to you are only few of those beseeched by renegades, aspiring fallen, too impatient for permission to enact divine justice and so vain as to demand their own sacrifices from the tormented. I warn you all! A flooding god may not have the same distinctions between deserving and underserving to order his armies with. Even then! I only hear these angels, these deal strikers! And I only hear them by knowing what they want me to know. I hear not a flooding god and fear these are after all forsaken angels left to their own devices and judge us vindictively as they please and they please. I can only tell you to look within yourselves for real love. [laughs] Real love. Real love [approximately 28 seconds off key attempts to sing Real Love by Mary J. Blige, interrupted and followed by own laughter before subject resumes monologue] So here I am, supposed to enact my own justice now for I passed in last year’s freeze.. So who of you all is to blame?! If not myself? Why bring me back for vengeance? There are others like me, outcast from the comforts by manmade circumstance, to exposure, who are bade. There are those risen from your wars and bade to seek vengeance. And others still… These angels cry for your leaders, and your acters, some even cry for your enablers, and your bystanders.. and your knowing.. But now that I am here, I can’t cast the first stone for them, for [Birdsong increases in volume and frequency at this point, audio inaccessible] for I’m just like [audio inaccessible] don’t want me to be like you.. imperfect. I choose the way of Poe’s scholar in face of Hitchcock’s prophecy. I [audio inaccessible] for all you fellow imperfect, even if it means that I’ll never see-

End Transcript: 19:47:33

Video Summary of Event: The following nine seconds of footage show an undiscerned number of the surrounding birds descending upon the subject who appears to slump forward onto her knees before the camera is presumed to have been dropped, camera facing down. With audio still recording there are car horns intermittently honking and five distinct voices screaming and shouting, none of which match the subject. No further utterance from subject is currently retrievable from this file.


End file.
